When God Fearin' Women Get the Blues
by iluvskyfunky
Summary: After a particularly stressful day, Cat unwinds with a drink. Vincent stops by and insists that Cat tell him what's wrong. Bad Day Drunk Cat Interesting Rant Session and Foofiness :-) Enjoy!


A/N: this story was actually inspired by a discussion of Creation Science vs. Intelligent Design vs. Evolution: stupid/hypocritical/bigoted people really piss me off... So, here's a story about how Cat feels the same way about an entirely different subject!

Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast and its characters.

When God Fearin' Women Get the Blues

I slammed my door shut, thankful that Heather was staying with Dad and Brooke tonight.

Today was the most _annoying_ day _ever_. I swear.

Not to mention, that lovely visitor has decided to make its presence known.

So, needless to say, I was _really_ bitchy.

"God, I need a drink." I pulled out the strong stuff. Usually, I go for beer, but on rare, _rare_ occasions, I can drink strong stuff.

I pulled out the bottle of Four Roses whiskey I kept hidden, safe from Heather. I quickly poured two shots and downed them before I got a cup of ice and poured a glass.

Grabbing the bottle, I turned around to see Vincent standing in the hallway just outside of the living room. I closed my eyes; deep, deep down, I didn't want him to deal with this. He didn't deserve it and, frankly, I knew I was going to regret it when this whole emotional trip was over.

I stood looking at him with, hopefully, an apology written on my face.

"Bad day?" He asked.

"To put it simply, yes," I took a deep breath. "Warning, I'm _really_ not in the best mood. And it's not your fault; just a bunch of little things have added up to one big thing and… yeah. Look," I said, pleading with my eyes for him to understand and leave and save me from the embarrassment that was about to ensue. "I usually _really_ enjoy your company and spending time with you, but tonight I am _not_ the best company and after everything you've had to deal with, I don't want to lay this on your shoulders."

As I waited for him to answer, I felt myself torn: part of me wanted to destroy everything in sight, part of me wanted to wallow in the bottle for the night, and part of me just wanted to curl up in his arms and forget the world.

He stayed where he was, but somehow he was less unsure than when I first saw him tonight. "You know, Cat, if we're going to be together like you want, you can't hide this side of you for forever. You already know my darkest, scariest side; fair is fair. Besides," he said as he moved to stand close to me, but still allowing me space, "I'm pretty sure I'm strong enough handle whatever you throw at me; literally. You've helped me carry my problems; let me help you carry yours."

I closed my eyes, groaned, and walked around him towards the bathroom to take off my makeup and such. "You are _really_ not going to like any of it…" I stood in the hallway entrance and looked at him. "…Last chance to get out of here alive…"

The corner of his mouth quirked up before he answered: "I'm here to stay, unless you really want me to leave…"

Stupid man; knows exactly how he affects me and how much I crave being around him.

He chuckled as I murmured something along those lines. He walked towards me again and rubbed on hand on my arm; involuntarily, I shivered.

"Why don't we do this: you get more comfortable – take off the makeup, change into pajamas and whatever else – I'll sit in your room, and you just let it fly, whatever 'it' may be. Sound good?"

I exhaled. "Fine," We walked into my bedroom and I waved my hand as I headed to my dresser, "Make yourself comfortable."

He settled on my bed as I grabbed a loose t-shirt and sweatpants. I moved to the bathroom and organized my thoughts. As I started making myself more comfortable, I decided to start from the beginning and just 'let it fly'.

That and the alcohol loosened my tongue, too.

"Really, today was just a normal day, but everything was piled in, I guess. The case we are working on has me and Tess interrogating some… interesting characters… assholes, really, who have no respect for women and spent the entire time making some rather crude passes at me and Tess…"

I patted my face dry and closed the door, mostly, so I could change. "Then, when we weren't interrogating dumbasses, we were sitting at our desks, waiting for evidence from a really backed-up forensics room… and while Evan was waiting for results to come back, he spent his free time trying to coerce me into a date."

I opened in the door and walked into the room. I walked to my dresser where my drink was and took a sip. Then, I paced as I continued to rant as I sipped my drink, intermittently. "Usually that wouldn't bug me so much – I'd politely turn him down somehow – but after the dumbasses earlier, I really didn't want to play nice and I kept brushing him off until I snapped. Then," my voice rose, just a bit, "Tess spent _her_ free time bugging and teasing me about my 'hermit-habits' and kept going on and on about how I needed to go find me a nice, _good_ man and get laid. Problem with that theory…" and here's how we know the alcohol was working oh-so well, "I've already got one! Well, I kind of do… except that she can't meet him, not that it's his fault, really, but if she wasn't so black and white, maybe she could be trusted! And he _is_ a good guy: best I've ever met! But, even if he didn't exist, I shouldn't _need_ a guy to be happy! Who the hell cares if I'm single or not as long as I am happy! But this guy I've got, he's really great: except society probably wouldn't accept him based on what another god-forsaken organization did to him, an organization that deserves to burn in the deepest pits of Hell. But that's not his fault, though others won't see it that way… they'll see 'the Beast,' and never look past that. And you know what? That's bullshit. Bull. Shit." The alcohol was coursing through my veins and there was no stopping me now.

I took another drink and continued. "Humans are so flawed, and I see it every day. They wouldn't know a beast if it bit them on the ass. What is a beast, anyway? Some creature with no conscience? Something with no heart or soul? Something furry? How about this: a beast is someone or something that has no care for the life in front of him, her, or it. As far as _I'm_ concerned, I see more 'beasts' everyday than most of them will ever see in their _lifetimes_ and they don't have a clue! Many of them act more 'beastly' in one day than you have in a _week!_ They have no fucking idea how much strength it would take to go through what _you_ did and yet you _still care:_ you still have a heart, a conscience, a soul; you are still _human_, as they would say. Doesn't matter what your DNA is: actions speak louder than words, pictures, and data, combined. And _no one_ sees that! Gah!" I back-flopped on my bed beside him with my arm over my eyes, still in rant mode, "It's fucking stupid and hypocritical…"

He ran his fingers through my hair. "Feel better?"

Like a kid, I grumbled. "No… world is still stupid and fucked up and hypocritical and I still can't brag to Tess about the awesome guy I managed to find… oh shit!" I moved my arm and looked at him, pleading for him to forgive me, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that! I –"

His finger on my lips stopped me. I saw the understanding and warmth in his eyes as he spoke: "Sh, it's alright. I understand what you were trying to say. My situation is going to suck any way you slice it."

I studied him skeptically. "Are you sure?"

He smiled and teased me: "About which part? The crappy life or your drunken ramblings?"

I blew raspberries at him to signify my indignation. He laughed at that and some giddy, drunken part of me warmed as the sound travelled through my body.

I placed my arm back over my eyes. "Hmph, well, so long as _you're_ not upset…"

Pretty soon, his fingers were running through my hair; that combined with the alcohol succeeded in finally relaxing me. It wasn't long before thoughts of his fingers led to thoughts of his wonderfully strong arms; arms I would love to be wrapped up in and never leave. And those very strong arms are connected to a wonderfully firm and warm chest that I would just love to snuggle into. Then his fingers stopped moving.

Confused, I looked at him. He was looking back at me, well, weirdly. Oh no, please don't tell me I said that stuff out loud…

Trying to play it cool, I squeaked, "What? What'd I do?"

He tilted his head to a different position and studied me. Then he smiled and moved off the bed.

I sat up a bit in alarm. "Wait, whatever it is, I'm sorry, but don't –"

He gingerly took the empty glass of whiskey from my hand. Chuckling, he said, "I think you have had enough for tonight."

I was protesting him leaving _and_ stealing my drink – the bastard; that is good whiskey and I wasn't done yet – while he moved the covers back on my bed. I quickly shut up, though, when his arms went under my legs and behind my back. As soon as he lifted me up, my arms flew to clasp around his neck. Then he sat down on the bed, reclined a bit, with me in his lap. At that moment, he grabbed the blankets and pulled the around us, before moving a bit to get us both more comfortable – specifically, to move the pillows to better support him. He tucked my head underneath his chin, which, coincidentally, pressed my head into his chest. I couldn't help the involuntary nuzzle into said warm chest. His arms were tightly wrapped around me, cocooning me in his masculine warmth, and if I were a cat, I'd be purring.

I hum/sighed as we relaxed further. One hand soothingly scratched my scalp while the other rubbed small circles on my back.

"Better?" He asked.

"Mm-hm… wait, what?" My eyes snapped open. On dear god…

He chuckled, seemingly a bit embarrassed, but answered nonetheless: "Well, before, you were mumbling about… me holding you… and, well…"

I was glad my face was in his chest because I think I would have outdone a cherry tomato in coloring. "Oh shit… I actually said that stuff out loud didn't I?"

"Yeah, you kinda did…"

I sighed and pulled back. "I'm sorry. Obviously, I had a bit much to drink and I wasn't doing a very good job at keeping my thoughts to myself and the last thing you need is to be thought of like some boy-toy –" once again, stopped by the finger on the lips.

"Hey, look at me," his expression was one of sincerity and I noticed a sparkle of hope that wasn't there before… "First of all, don't apologize for speaking your mind. Well, don't do it all of the time; sometimes it may be a good idea, but not for this. Second of all, I don't feel like a 'boy-toy' with you; I know you respect both of us more than that. And lastly…" he pulled me closer. "You have no idea how much I have longed to hold you like this, in my arms; so close I can feel every breath you take; so close that I can practically _feel_ your heart beat in rhythm with mine; to hold you so close I don't know where I end and you begin… Catherine, I have wanted to hold you, like this, since you first found me out. So don't apologize for giving me the kick in the butt I needed. Alright?"

I stupidly nodded. He smiled. We settled back into each other and soaked up the feeling of simply being together.

Then, my drunken brain with the attention span of a gnat, blurted out: "I have a question… when did you take off your shoes?"

He laughed and then he hugged me once before he answered. "While you were in the bathroom I made myself comfortable, as you said. I remembered that you told me Heather was gone for the night, and I figured either we'd watch movies while the alcohol wore off, or I'd get to play nurse and make sure you didn't make a mess of yourself… and then I'd get to watch you sleep." He said, softly. "This is much better."

I pulled back to look at him skeptically. "You were going to watch me sleep? Creeper."

He smirked. "You were the one who was having thoughts about being wrapped in my 'wonderfully strong –'"

"Alright!" I cut him off as the blush returned. "You made your point." I fell back into his chest to hide my embarrassment as he laughed. I blew raspberries at him, again.

"Cute."

"Hmph!" I said as I, hypocritically, snuggled closer into him. I took a deep breath and relaxed.

"Go to sleep, Cat; you are not going to feel so hot tomorrow."

I groaned, then: "will you stay? Heather won't be home until after work and tomorrow's my day off…"

He held me tighter and kissed the top of my head. "Of course. I'll be right here when you wake up."

I smiled. "Night, Vincent."

"Night, Cat. Sweet dreams."

Most definitely.


End file.
